


Nope

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ficlet, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Pillow Fights, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1585529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1576550">Not Fooling Anyone</a>. Enjolras finds out that Combeferre knew about him and Grantaire the entire time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nope

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Not Fooling Anyone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576550) by [kjack89](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89). 



> Tiny little fluffy ficlet because nerds in love are one thing, but best friend nerds who are occasionally dicks to each other? The best.
> 
> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos.

Enjolras stumbled out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed and bedheaded, and Grantaire let out a noise like a frightened mouse. “Wass goin’ on?” Enjolras asked, gladly accepting the cup of coffee that Grantaire wordlessly thrust at him.

“Um,” Grantaire said. “Well. Combeferre knows.”

After a gulp of coffee, Enjolras managed, “Combeferre knows what?”

“About us. Being…together.”

“Oh,” Enjolras said, taking another sip of coffee, which he promptly choked on when what Grantaire said sank in. “ _Oh._ ”

Combeferre snorted and said affectionately, “You’re so articulate in the mornings. It astounds me.”

Enjolras, however, was still staring at Grantaire. “So…he knows.”

Grantaire nodded. “Yeah. He knows. And, uh, so does everyone else.”

“The power of social media,” Combeferre said loudly, grinning at Enjolras. “Though, I mean, if you two honestly think that they didn’t realize long before I posted that picture, well…”

After a long moment, Enjolras took another sip of coffee and turned to Grantaire. “Hold my coffee,” he said firmly, handing the mug over to Grantaire, who looked frightened. Then, with a speed belied by how slowly he had shuffled out of his room, Enjolras vaulted over the couch, seized one of the couch cushions, and promptly began hitting Combeferre with the cushion. “You. Posted. A. Picture. Online?” he yelped, punctuating each word with a  _thwack_  from the cushion.

Combeferre dodged the cushion as best as he could, circling around the other side of the couch to try to avoid him. “You would do the same thing to me,” he pointed out, unable to stop from laughing. “In fact, you  _have_  done the same thing to me, or need I remind me you of the vine you posted of me sleeping with Courfeyrac that you posted, and then tagged, I believe, with something about gay porn?”

“That was different!” Enjolras bellowed. “You two were obvious!”

Combeferre actually doubled over laughing, ignoring the blows from the cushion. “And you two were, what, super-stealthy? Have you  _met_ yourselves?”

“But why didn’t you just tell us you knew?” Enjolras shouted.

Dodging away from Enjolras and the deadly cushion, Combeferre shouted back, “Why didn’t you just tell us all you were together?”

In the kitchen, Grantaire carefully set the coffee mug down on the counter and whispered, “Right, so…I’m just gonna…go…” before edging out of the apartment (though not before taking a few pictures and videos of his own).

After chasing Combeferre around for a bit more, Enjolras gave up on the cushion and went about trying to bodily tackle Combeferre (given Enjolras’s complete lack of most athletic coordination and upper body strength, this attempt was not destined to go well). Indeed, though he managed to get an arm around Combeferre, that was about all he managed, and the two tumbled onto the couch, half-laughing, half-still shouting at each other (“ _You used my shower gel!_ ” “ _Why are you so possessive of shower gel?_ ” “ _Because it’s Grantaire’s!_ ” Combeferre actually did stop struggling at that, twisting around to tell Enjolras in an obnoxiously sweet voice, “But that’s so  _cute_!”).

Just as they were finally about to give up on their fight (Enjolras needed more coffee, having expended far too much energy this early in the morning, and Combeferre, who had already drank his weight in coffee, desperately needed to pee, and besides, they weren’t  _really_  mad at each other), the door burst open and Courfeyrac half ran into the apartment, asking loudly, “What the hell is going on? Grantaire just texted me the word ‘nope’ eighteen times in a row, and I—”

He froze when he saw Combeferre and Enjolras, who had frozen on the couch, Enjolras’s arm in a stranglehold around Combeferre’s neck, Combeferre’s glasses askew, with one of Combeferre’s hands tangled in Enjolras’s curls and the other one unfortunately resting on the waistband of Enjolras’s boxers in a way that made it look like he was about to yank them down.

“We can explain,” Enjolras panted, face red from exertion.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Combeferre added, sounding winded.

“Nope,” Courfeyrac said, backing away as quickly as he came in. “Nope.”

(Grantaire later uploaded the video he had taken of them fighting to instagram, tagged #HomoeroticSubtext and, of course, #Nope).


End file.
